Mama's Promise

Mama loves you, Threesome,
more than you'll ever know.
And I didn't "leave" you, (Promise!)
even though I had to go.

An 'venture Mama left to start,
a life-worth-living, see?
And though I'm gone most days from you,
my Love will always BE.

You're Heart to me, my little girls,
my Joy, my Strength, my Own.
As lonely as it feels at times,
you never are alone.

I'm crying as I write this,
so many tears we've shed.
But Hope springs new, and Hope there is,
in our lives, soon up ahead.

My dream for you? You'll see the day,
as Mama knows you can,
that fam'ly sometimes changes,
but, LOVE, it always stands!

In the Shade of this Tree

In the shade of this tree,
I'm searching for ME.
With one final glance
to the things of the past,
I find that the choice
to use my own voice
is power for me,
in the shade of this tree.

In the shade of this tree,
I set myself free.
My journey's my own.
Only I can make known
that the strength that I find
is the will of MY mind;
And the courage to stand?
In the palm of my hand.
Finding love, just for me,
in the shade of this tree.

In the shade of this tree,
I choose just to BE.
The future's unknown,
not written in stone.
The past, no more tears;
they're unwelcome here.
I've fin'lly found me,
in the shade of this tree.

"Yes" (To a Child)

Where could I go,
if no one said, "No,
you can't make the attempt,
you're too wild and unkempt?"

I could race cars
or visit the stars,
or be the first one
to harness the sun.

I'll write the best book
or learn how to cook,
to show magic with tricks
or ballet, with high-kicks.

So when I ask, "Please,
may I try Those or These?
(whether boy or young girl)
I would give it a whirl."

And maybe I'll find
where my heart and my mind
show me life can be blessed,
when people say, "Yes."

Wedding Bells

I married my Self today.
I'd gotten carried away
by the Need and the Greed of filling my heart
(that breakable part)
with You, and with Them, with It and with That.
Tired, and worn, and broken, in fact;
So for my Love's health,
I married myself.

I vow to be Strong and Patient and Tough,
but Gentle enough to get through the Stuff.
From here and today,
I always will say:
Til death do us part,
I protect my own heart.
And I'm strong enough now
(Only I know the How)
to keep it that way.
I got married today.

Fingers

The Law of Thermodynamics states
perpetual motion cannot exist,
but the pursuit persists.

Friction, heat, entropy, pressure
slow my fingers
as they traverse your plains,
your valleys, your mountains, your caverns.

From here to there,
charting your response.
Skin to skin, fingers to heart.
Your terrain is my refrain.

Touching, feeling, caressing,
merging the energy of your heat
and my desire-
in perpetuity.

120

I love that Phoebe sleeps with us
mos' ev'r'y single night.
She snuggles down 'tween us, hiding,
us'lly from some fright.
"Ver was a skeery monster, Mama,
 a mof wif teef and claws."
Or, "I couldn't sleep no more, Mommy,
Doggy woke me wif his paws."
Our Phoebe girl, her face lights up,
The smile she gives us, oh that grin.
Her dimples show, she knows she's loved
when we always take her in.
She doesn't know the memories
she makes for the three of us to share.
She only know we love her so,
with loving arms we care.
And even if it's that she's lonesome,
no scary thing she fears,
She can rest her head upon my arms;
She's safe, with us, in here.

119

There lives a lady (or man),

who does the best that s/he can,

to provide for the few,

that five-member crew,

s/he loves dearly, more than s/he stands!

118

Paige is jumping off the board

and swimming to the ledge.

How brave she is to stand up there

and leap from Board's high edge.

She saw the older kids do this,

dive straight into the pool.

She asked if she could jump off too,

because it looked so cool.

I tightened up her safety coat,

ensured it safe and snug.

Then sent her on to higher ground,

my bravest little Bug.

Before she went, she said to me,

"You sure about this Mom?"

I said, "It's up to you. I know you can.

Just walk out nice and calm."

She stood in line, but let them go,

the others standing 'round.

Until I told her, "You can, too.

Get your feet up off the ground."

She climbed the steps and walked on out,

onto that wobbly board.

Then jumped right off with, "One. Two. Three."

Our proud hearts, they just soared.

She swam to us with smile so big,

nearly bursting as she beamed.

That growing little Paige of ours

is braver than we dreamed.

117

Puppies, puppies everywhere.

Come and get one. I will share!

Black and white ones, brown ones, too.

Some with spots, there's one for you.

They love to play and nip and roam,

But most of all they want a home.

So come on by and see them please,

and take one home; they don't have fleas!

116

It's turtle season once again.

I see them as I drive.

Small and round and big and flat

and some are still alive!

Turtles can't help that they must cross

that paved great divide.

And shells are no protection

if from autos they must hide.

So be mindful mother nature,

she dictates where they go.

Don't aim for them as you drive by,

or may your murderous tire blow!

115

I'm up way too early,

to see what can be done.

If creative juice is flowin'

with the risin' of the sun.

The girls are lightly sleepin'.

I'd best keep noises down,

if Mama wants to write some lines

'fore little ones abound.

114.

A dyke without my Birkenstocks,

I'm not sure what to wear.

I've had a pair since '93.

They've always been right there.

Those loyal guardians of my soles

have somehow been misplaced.

The memory of their resting spot

has surely been erased.

Until I find those leathered corks,

no other thing will do.

My feet, they long to tread again

in this lesbian's favorite shoe!

113.

Our littlest one, she throws such fits;
it's a wonder to behold.
With reddened face, she wails so long,
her temper ne'er grows old.

Those scrunched-up eyes, no tears they shed
while she's writhing on the floor.
And when you think she's slowing down
she's gearing up for more.

And then she'll peek through squinted lids
to see if we're still there.
And throws herself right to the ground,
if we don't show we care.

The straightest face we have to keep
while watching Polly's tricks.
A drama queen, we've come to learn,
is living in our midst!

112.

Phoebe likes dog food,

of this I'm quite sure.

Thank goodness it's Iams,

the quality's pure.

Fistfuls of brown chunks

she's trying to eat.

With crumbs on her face,

she thinks it's a treat.

Baby food companies

need soon be aware:

that babies can't tell

between dog's and their fare!

111.

Packing, moving ain't no fun.

But we've gotta get it done.

Cleaning, painting left to do.

Sands of time are slipping through.

Whining, crying, all are stressed.

None of us can act our best.

Two more weeks to settle in.

Then, at last, we're home again!

110.

It's been a trying last few days.

I don't know where to start.

I'm jumping through the many hoops

because they are my heart.

Discouraged that my barren womb

could never bring forth life,

my tears were turned from grief to joy

by my hero, by my wife.

I knew the minute she conceived,

I know that sounds so queer.

A child's voice right next to me

said, "Mama I'm right here.

"I'll soon be nestled in your arms,

but after Mommy's nursed.

We heard your prayers, so crystal clear.

I wanted to be first."

With each new bundle, little joy,

I can't believe my eyes.

They all have given more to me

than I ever could surmise.

I know it doesn't change a thing

while living daily life.

The girls, they're mine from birth on up,

my genes or of my wife.

But laws are laws, not made by hearts,

nor sometimes fairer heads.

So every footpath laid before

I'll forward on to tread.

My girls won't know till later on

they didn't grow from me.

And Love won't care it's recognized

in this, the land of free.

I'm grateful more than I can say,

this barely just begins.

My happiness belongs with them:

Susan, Paige and twins.

109.

Mama is a working girl.
She leaves near ev'ry day.
But always back to home she comes.
Three girls are there to play.

They meet her at the door, all three,
one running, two at crawls.
And each will squeal or laugh or clap
til she can hold them all.

No matter how the day drags on,
from morn to early night,
the precious smiles from those dear three
will always set things right.

108.

Polly started up the stairs.

She got to number two.

Our little tow-head started up.

To where, she had no clue.

A quiet girl is often-times

a girl to be checked on.

And Polly was just crying, so,

I knew there was a con.

Sure enough I headed where

her cries, the last, were heard.

Just in time to stop that girl

'fore climbing up the third.

And reaching for my little one,

I caught her backward fall.

My nerves have never been as shook

as now that they can crawl.

107.

I have a keyboard, now, it seems.

I've had to write these in my dreams.

A lot of time has since elapsed

since last I penned. My brain collapsed!

106.

Polly's surfing channels

till she finds the perfect one.

She pushes all the buttons,

while laughing at the fun.

She passes up the news,

the soaps, commercials, too,

until she finds the one she wants,

and sits right down to view.

I must admit my jaw sagged down

when she first learned this trick.

But no one seemed at all surprised

when cartoons were the pick.

105.

It's dangerous to have two teeth

when you're so new to it.

The fingers you've been gnawing on

can now be badly bit.

For someone little, just like you,

you've got to be awares:

there's things a'growin in your mouth

that often come in pairs.

The lesson learned by Phoebe dear

on this momentous day:

Fingers don't go in the mouth.

'Cause teeth aren't meant for play.

104.

Penelope, we named our girl

and a nickname wouldn't fit.

Penny didn't seem quite right

for her, our Little Bit.

We scratched our heads and finally said,

tradition's out, by golly.

Even though it's ne'er been done,

we're gonna call her Polly!

103.

Polly pulled herself right up

and stood up on the ground.

She used a little toy-filled box

to stand and look around.

Mommy noticed right away

how big and tall she stood,

and Polly played with all the toys

as steady as she could.

We're proud of all she's learned so far

in these few months, now nine.

Our little premie at four pounds,

she's growing up just fine.

102.

We have a little chatterbox

talking all the time.

She talks and talks and talks and talks.

She'd make an awful mime!

She makes up little stories

about her toys and all her friends.

The rest she fills with questions.

The noise, it never ends.

But listening quite closely

to the little things she says,

I hear those clever sayings

from my darling little PEZ.

101.

Polly is a stepping stone.

That's what Phoebe thinks.

Polly'll be sitting upright,

till fast as she just blinks,

Phoebe waves a sturdy arm

and Polly's on her face.

Then Phoebe crawls right on over

like a little leap-frog race.

I'm not so sure why Phoebe thinks

she needs her sister's back.

She'd better plan another route

'fore Polly learns to smack.

100.

Playing together means taking one toy

and passing it back to each other.

Wait til I hand it; don't grab or I'll cry,

and then we'll get scolded by Mother.

From your hand to mine with detours to mouths,

it's all about tasting and feeling.

But be patient and kind while I'm taking my turn.

Playing's 'bout sharing, not stealing.

99.

Inspiration isn't easy
when my eyes are looking down.
My soul is turning inward
and it needs to turn around.

Stress is weighing down
and I'm putting up some walls.
The fight is quite an effort
when the inner demon calls.

Cognizant each choice,
whether positive or not,
impacts my daily living:
Time to fight with all I've got.

98.

Sticky faces. Sticky hands.

Sticky bibs, trays too.

Eating food is a great big mess,

but so much fun to do.

We love to pick up little chunks

of carrots, apples, peas.

If we want more we will fuss

because we can't say, "Please."

The sign for "eat" we're learning fast.

It's not that hard to do.

But we're not sure yet how to sign,

"Mama, now we're through."

97.

Blowing raspberries with oatmeal.

A big ol' pppllbbtthh to you.

Better clean us quick, Mama.

That stuff turns to glue.

Bellies full, wearing great big grins.

Let us down to play.

Crawling all around the floor.

Learning more each day!

96.

It's not that I've been lazy.

Life has been so crazy.

Ok, so maybe some.
So that excuse is dumb

and ever quite so hazy.

95.

Phoebe's favorite toy

is a tiny little giraffe.

She played with it for quite some time,

nearly an hour and a half.

Polly loves to play with spoons,

just like sister Paige.

She too would crawl around with spoons

when she was Polly's age.

It's fun to see which toys they pick

to play with every day.

And mostly it's a box or bag

with which they want to play.

94.

IDK

what to say.

Fuh reals man I am stuck.

I'm finna write

this neways

and then say WTF!

93.

Phoebe sits with one leg forward,

one leg facing back.

She moves just like a Weeble Wobble

on a silly little track.

She lays right down on all her fours,

belly on the ground,

then she pushes up to sit

while twisting 'round and 'round.

This laying down and sitting up

is a clever way to move.

The way she travels here to there,

we call Phoebe's Little Groove.

92.

Phoebe's got a tooth.
It seemed to sneak right in.
She bit down on my finger
and then looked up with a grin.

No fussy, crying nights.
No drooling on the chin.
She just sat right there
with a great big smile
while her toofer came right in!

91.

With holidays near over

it's resolution time.

So bye, Procrastination.

I must sit right down to rhyme.

90.

The yummy Christmas candy

staked its claim upon my rump.

It was oh-so-very yummy,

but now I am quite plump.

The cookies were quite tasty;

the party was a hit.

But now I fear when I squat down

my pants are gonna split.

My Mama's appetizers,

she made them just for me.

I ate them all in just two days

and shocked my family.

I'm so relieved the food is gone;

the holidays, they're done.

If one more piece of fudge went down,

I'd have weighed a ton!

89.

There once was a gal named Sissy,
who was anything but real prissy.
The books she would read
should be censored, indeed!
Take 'em away and she'd have a hissy!

88.

One's asleep up on the bed

and one is in my lap.

The third is helping Mommy,

a few presents left to wrap.

It's cozy here with just us five,

our little family.

The presents hidden out of sight,

await our Christmas tree.

A tiny blizzard hit our home

and snowed us promptly in.

But we don't need to venture out;

our warmth comes from within.

Whatever this new year may bring,

we face unknowns to come,

and hold on tight to our dear girls

in this, our happy home.

87.

"My favorite thing is nerdles
for dinner and for lunch.
Can't you make them cheesy?
I like that a whole bunch.

"I love the babies' 'otion.
It makes their skin so soft.
I covered up my mouth just now
'cause I achooed and coughed.

"See those dogamations?
Their furb is black and white.
You have to pet them gently.
Their sharker teeth might bite.

"My teeth are clean and pretty.
Yuck, my floorhead rinse tastes bad.
But if I never use it,
my Mama will be mad."

That little girl is clever
and thinks up on her own
all these little phrases
I will share when she is grown.

86.

I have been writing poems.

They're all just in my head.

With holidays and birthdays

I've been jotting them instead

of writing them and posting

but here's one before bed.

85.

I'm oh so sad and lonely
when they're traveling 'cross the state.
This big ol' house is empty
and I'm pacing while I wait.

The little sounds are defeaning
to Mama's lonely ears.
I'm wand'ring 'round the household
fighting back the tears.

I don't know how much longer now
that they'll be gone away.
My moping isn't helping and
I should enjoy the day.

But when my lap is empty
and the children's laughter gone,
I'm tragic and dramatic
and the day just lingers on.

84.

A poem a day
keeps inertia at bay.

83.

I need to write poems.
I'm several behind.
I'm out of ideas,
but some I must find.

Should I write about work,
or Susan, or Paige
and how she's the best dancer
up on the stage?

Oh, wait, here comes another one
out from the mist.
I hope it turns out to
be Top-of-the-List.

82.

The girls are waving bye-bye

with fingers facing in.

They babble when they do so

and then look at us and grin.

It almost sounds like bye-bye

with that babbling that they do.

I'm sure it's wishful thinking

by Mama, Mommy too.

But then they grin and fingers wave,

and glowing little eyes

look up at us and prove us right:

they're certainly that wise!

81.

Paige was snuggling on my lap,

a rarity these days.

I asked her if she'd snuggle still

when I was old and gray.

She looked at me and rolled her eyes,

"I'll be too big, you know."

"You'll be to me my little girl."

She paused and then said, "No."

80.

Allowishes sat right down

and roasted marsh-a-mallows.

That is quite one silly dude,

that little elfin fellow.

He got a candle from the shelf

and sat up on great heights.

He found a toothpick for a stick

and made snacks through the night.

The other day he went right out

and brought us donuts home.

The elf, he started up the car

and 'cross the town he roamed.

We can't believe the things he does

around our house at night.

Santa should be proud of him

with his magical delights.

79.

There once was a Mommy named Susan
who often missed out on the snoozin'
'cause a baby or two
would wake up and then coo
and her beauty rest she would be losin'.

78.

Snuggled up in Mommy's bed,
at some point in the night.
Waiting for those loving arms
to wrap her safe and tight.

That little girl adores her so.
She's often found right there:
underneath each footstep,
'cause she thinks Mom walks on air.

And then she waits so patiently
until her turn to sit.
And on that lap she climbs, at last,
a perfect Mommy fit.

77.

Needing to feel inspired.
Not knowing what to write.
The thoughts aren't coming quickly.
It's becoming quite the fight.

It's very tough to find the time
to sit on down alone.
And then to jot down something good
that's flowing from the zone?

Let's hope this case of writer's block
is only temporary.
I'd hate to think I've been tapped out.
It's not quite January!

76.

Rockin' and rollin' on all fours.

Talkin' and cooin' and fillin' our drawers.

Blue eyes and green eyes lookin' around.

Laughter and giggles we have found.

Eatin' and spittin' the baby food.

We are learnin' and life is good!

75.

Sung to the tune of Jingle Bells. I heard the term Tranny Claus on The Office. I HAD to write a song.

Tranny Claus, Tranny Claus

I sat on your lap.

I found out you have two boobs

and that you're not a chap.

Oh, Tranny Claus, Tranny Claus

where'd you get that suit?

What'd you do with the real Claus

and how'd you steal his boots?

Went to the mall today,

'cause I wanted pics with him,

so I stood in line for hours long

and the results were very grim.

Your beard was all askew,

your lipstick rubbing off,

and when you tried to Ho, Ho, Ho

all you did was cough!

Oh, Tranny Claus, Tranny Claus

you are not a man.

I can't stand to be a part of

your Evil Christmas Plan.

74.

Allowishes Elf played another prank tonight.

Paige went a-visiting and he hid from our plain sight.

Mommy looked at least five times in the dolly's house.

Mama looked three more times. He was quiet as a mouse.

We asked dear Paige just where he sat when she first left to go.

She said to me, "I'll find him, Mom. It's ok, you know."

But little elfin magic can't be done without some aide

from moms who think they're smarter than the childhood brigade.

But home she came and straight she went to little elfin's side.

And there he was right in that house by Barbie's curvy side.

Our eyes went wide, our heads did shake 'cause little did we know

that Christmas Magic was, indeed, for both the young and old.

73.

Behind on the laundry,

the dishes, too.

Gonna get so bad

to hire a cleanin' crew.

Little by little

gonna get it done.

Workin' and cleanin'

just ain't no fun!

72.

When the first one is born,

you do all the right stuff,

like boiling the binky and

powdering the duff.

Books all around,

only the smartest of toys.

Make sure there's no

stereotypes for girls or for boys.

The diapers are cloth,

the food all organic.

Schedules are made

so no need for a panic.

The number-one speed dial,

right up at the top,

is the pediatrician

for when crying won't stop.

Then along comes kid two,

oops, and then there is three,

and time is spent juggling

when once it was free.

So you focus on moments

'cause they grow up so fast,

not the brand name of diapers

or each milestone they've passed.

The binky gets dirty;

the clothes are all stained,

and you look toward the day

when they're all potty-trained.

But you learn that no matter

which books that you've read

the love that you give them

is greater instead.

71.

Not many people know

I can't stand to have my toe:

touched.

It's like the chalkboard and the nails

and it makes me want to wail:

Stop!

Whenever someone's chose

to tickle those poor toes:

Beware!

I will flail and fling about

and I'm often prone to shout:

Ahhhhh!

And if that doesn't help

I'll also kick and yelp:

Enough!

70.

I hate the doctors scale

'cause it reads ten pounds high.

Why can't it be like mine

and perpetuate the lie?

That the holiday good eats

didn't settle on my gut

and melted off my hips,

legs and butt.

69.

I feel like I should put a clause in this post: It's just a poem, people, not a state of mind. Lol.

Icy fingers trace

unreadable patterns

as sweat beads on

arms, neck,

forehead, legs.

Heart pulses icy sludge

through veins,

reaching first the heart,

then lungs, torso,

fingers, toes.

Breathing changes from instinct

to conscious movement,

concentrating now on the

rise and fall,

rise and fall,

rise and fall.

Fighting the paralysis

creates resistance,

like breathing surfactant

through primitive gills.

Terror rises,

thoughts race toward

impending doom,

perpetuating the cycle

until at last adrenaline wanes,

heart beat slows,

blood warms,

fear fades,

and the body, once again,

returns to Resting State.

68.

Allowishes Pepper elf

came and sat upon our shelf.

He woke up in the night

and I think that he did write

Post-it notes on all our things

so that good old Santa brings

gladful tidings of great joy

and lots of presents, brand-new toys.

I think that he shall see

we're as good as we can be

with only little tiny fights,

but we make up and act right

because Santa dear now knows

we are trying head to toes

to love each other dear

through Christmas and New Years.

67.

An elf came a-visiting

through the mail today.

Santa sent him to our house

to watch us work and play.

Some magic dust was sent along

to help us act real nice.

The elf will help dear Santa Claus

to check our names, each twice.

Write things down and send reports,

he'll do this every night.

And Santa listens very close

to mark his list just right.

We hope to make him very proud,

this little elfin guy,

so Santa brings us presents

through the wintry, Christmas sky.

66.

Sibling rivalry is kicking in.

It seems so early to begin.

But when one has a toy,

the other says, "Oh, boy!"

and steals it with a grin.

65.

The hamster died today.
She was turning awfully gray.
So now there's a choice
and I hear a small voice
saying get another and whisk it away.

64.

Thanksgiving Day 2009,
Polly's on all fours.
It won't be long until that babe
is crawling out the door.

She's rocking back and forth
with her belly off the ground.
But til she's up and crawling
she likes to roll around.

The blanket laid down on the floor
doesn't hold her in.
She rolls on past that invisible line
and looks at us and grins.

That little ball of squirminess
is gonna make us run.
And catching her is gonna be
like catching rays of sun.

63.

My knight in shining armor
takes her armor off at night.
Who knew that he would be
a she. Some say it isn't right.

But love is blind, or so they say,
and that's my attitude.
Until they change their minds and laws,
we'll stand with fortitude.

62.

If you'd asked a year ago,
I'd have said it's very true:
That families can be broken,
the core split right in two.

But living means that people grow
and families can move on.
For healing does begin anew
with every breaking dawn.

61.

So how is this thing going?

This writing a poem every day?

I've found that sometimes I struggle

or that I don't have that much to say.

The hardest part is putting them up,

even when they're not my "best."

But I said that I would write them down,

not that they'd pass an editor's test.

60.

I miss my girls when I'm not at home
and they're cuddled up at night.

And then one calls and says to me,

"Can't you tuck me in real tight?"

But I once read my hardest job

is to build up their self-worth.

Them: Mama leaves but then comes home?

I'm the greatest kid on Earth.

59.

Mask drops for a split-second.
Does someone see: Vulnerability,
Insecurity. Not different you
and I, but one holds too-tightly
the masquerade.

58.

I just ran a mile and a half.

In the middle, got a cramp in my calf.

I wanted to slow,

but my friend she said, "No."

So I finished and pride I still have.

57.

It's time to change my shirt.

It certainly wouldn't hurt.

With snot like glue

and maybe poo,

this one smells like dirt.

56.

Where's that Magic Eight Ball

when the future seems unclear?
And where's the instruction manual

for the problems I have here?

Who knows all the answers

to these questions that I ask?

And where's the inner wisdom

I so need to meet the task?

But living's an adventure

when paths are hidden still.

And onward forging blindly

is a testament of will.

55.

Air bubble trapped expands narrow passages,

wreaks havoc on surrounding nerves,

sending screaming commands to overlaying muscles:

Contract. Release. Contract. Release.

Until, roaring through, the noxious stimulus

erupts in a most-satisfying BRAAAP!

54.

Mom, my teacher's prejudiced.

I thought that you should know.

If you go to school with me,

you'll see that it is so.

You know my friend who's Gabrielle,

the new boy in my school?

I told you 'bout him yesterday.

I think he's kinda cool.

My teacher isn't very nice

when Gabe is clownin' round,

Because he yells out real loud:

"Enough, now, Mr. Brown!"

53.

There once was a girl named Polly,

who was as cute as a porcelain dolly.

When she would giggle and play

it would brighten your day,

leaving you happy and feeling so jolly!

52.

Phoebe's up at 4 a .m.

with no sleep in our sight.

She's laughing, talking, playing too,

in the middle of the night.

She's gonna wake her sisters up

with all her carrying on.

So here I'm shushing, rocking too

in the early hours of dawn.

51.

My baby sisters poked my eye,

pulled my hair and made me cry.

Mama says that they don't know

that doing that just hurts me so.

Now I'm learning to be brave

'cause they don't know how to behave.

50.

"Mama share your printzles, please?

I love them for a snack.

And won't you pet my puppy dog?

His furb is soft and black.

"The seed is big and huge and blue

and mermaids swim in it.

And when we go down to the beach

it's on the sand we'll sit.

"I saw a Freak-in-stine today.

It's almost Halloween.

We'll dress up in our costumes soon

and 'tend that we're the Queen."

I know she doesn't say them right,

the words I hear her use.

But how can I correct her when

that cuteness I would lose?

48.

Won't you stop that cutting-up,
before you wake your sisters up?
I know you're whispering, I see!
But out this room you need to be!
Don't you make them wake and cry.
Please tip-toe gently. Do try.
And if they open one little peep
it doesn't mean they're up for keeps.
So don't lean over and say hello,
or off to bed you, too, will go!

49.
All they do is tell me shush;
and then they yell out, "Hush, hush, hush!"
My baby sisters need their naps,
but how much longer can that last?
I walk by and see their eyes,
and then they open up, surprise!
So, stopping then, to lean so low,
I just want to say hello.
Cause anyone can plainly see
that naps ain't fun as playin' with me.

47.

Overwhelmed by stress today,
Mama wants to run and play.
Someone hold me on their lap,
and tuck me in before my nap.
But been there, done that, as they say,
and now it's time to live each day,
protecting them, where I belong,
so they will grow up big and strong.

46.

Oh my goodness, I'm so tired,
and the kids are good and wired.
I'd like to go and lay my head
up on my pillows in my bed.
But little girls are so awake
I'm not sure that they will take
a nap!

45.

We're gonna butt heads, she and I,
if we don't soon see eye to eye.
She is three, I'm thirty-five,
but she rules the roost, is Queen of the Hive.
The parenting books say take deep breaths
but her stubbornness is out of my depths.
But then she smiles and says to me,
"I love you Mama. You're my favorite, see."
Together we'll journey across each mile
and be thankful the teen years aren't for awhile.

44.

Holding sleeping Polly,
Nuk still in her mouth,
the wailing cries are muted,
those ones heard way down South.

And even though we cringe in fear
when first she starts to fuss,
we take her in our loving arms
and fight the urge to cuss.

43.

Not feeling creative or funny tonight.
The words aren't coming or sounding just right.
The weight of the world is spinning inside.
I want to bury myself under covers and hide.
So hold all my calls, my texts and IMs.
I'll be up in my room with some plain M&Ms.

42.

Dementia robs people of clear-thinking heads,
leaving shells of the person and violence instead.
Care-givers continue to love whom they knew,
but when is enough that it's time to be through?
And does mourning begin for the loved one so dear,
when the relationship changes into one to be feared?
The answers aren't clear when these questions arise
and God help us all when we're living those lives.

41.

There once was a Phoebe Elise
whose smiles would always increase.
She hugged 'round your neck
and your cheek she would peck,
bringing everyone gladness and peace.

40.

One, standing alone, feels a tremor,
that sure sign the sky is falling,
so, rushes to alert his
neighbors, excitable gents. One tells
another, three overhear, five demand
action, until all, wanting the honor
of breaking the news, make a mad-dash
to Central, causing a ripple-effect of
flailing limbs. Exhausted, all collapse,
waiting for the Watch-Tower-call: All is Well!

39.

Where, O, where did my baby girl go?
O, where, O, where can she be?
I've searched up and down and all through the house,
but it's only her pictures I see.

There is a girl here who answers her name,
but she's way too big to be she.
Although her blond hair and sparkling blue
eyes make me think that it really may be

That once where my baby with dimpled arms sat
and a smiling, laughing cute face
sits a darling big girl with a laugh in her voice
and that smile in the very same place.

But Mama's not ready to let her grow up,
and Time won't let us stay here.
So I'll remember each moment she gives to me now,
holding each to my heart, very dear.

38.

Barren, once fruitful, arms reach
toward Heaven, praying scattered
children find lush havens in
fertile Mother Earth.

37.

Are you writin' another poem, Mama?
I like it when you do.
You write about my sisters,
and me and Mommy, too.

Can you read them over and over, Mama?
I never get tired of it.
I promise I'll listen quietly
if on your lap I sit.

Will you always write them down, Mama,
the poems, every day?
And could you please just write one now,
before I run out to play?

36.

I get to go out (I can't wait!),
with my beautiful, wonderful mate.
We're gonna take bets
to see who more frets
over leaving the girls for this date.

35.

I haven't had time to write.
I've been working every night.
And time slips away
when there's no time to play,
but I know what I'm doin' is right.

34.

There once was a girl named Paige,
who always looked tall for her age.
All her clothes she outgrew,
so quickly gone through,
and no stopping could anyone gauge.

33.

Decisions are tough
when words aren't enough,
because little hearts bleed
when it's loving they need.

32.

My little girl dressed fancy in her very first play.
And then she acted fancy, as she trounced around today.

Those fancy braids, her hair just so;
It couldn't be plain, "Oh, no, no, no."

She danced in step, decked to the nines.
She knew each one, her fancy lines.

She made us proud up on that stage,
My fabulous, stupendous, darling Fancy Paige.

31.

Welcome little baby boy.
Your birth day gave us so much joy.
Nine long months since you were due.
Your Mama loves you, Daddy too.
Snuggle in your family's arms.
You'll always be so safe and warm.
No matter where your life may roam,
their love will guide you safely home.

30.

I'm tired of washing my hands.
I don't care where the germs may land.
Ok, so I'm lying,
but the water's so drying,
and they're burning so much I can't stand (it).

29.

There once was a boy named Dan,
who ate all his food from a can.
"Dear me, dear me,
there's no more Chef Boyardee.
I'll guess I'll settle for Spam."

28.

I've half a mind to speak the truth,
no matter what may fall.
But words can hurt and every truth
is not the same for all.

I'd like to think that honesty
will lead us to the light,
but till we all can live in truth
we stumble through the night.

And searching souls and baring hearts
is oftentimes so slow,
But silence heard in honesty
is louder than we know.

27.

When the policeman pulls you over,
it's never good to cry.
Just sit there so politely
and look him in the eye.

Start by saying, "Sorry,
I know I blew that light."
or "I'm sure that I was speeding;
I hate to drive at night."

And when that ticket's written,
don't fret or come unglued.
Just pay the pricey ticket
and know your insurance will go up too.

26.

Five poems behind. My meter's in a rut.
I've got to break this rhyming scheme
before I'm called a nut.

The words are there, the subjects, too,
but sounding all the same.
And metaphors and cadence are big players in this game.

But pushing on to achieve my goal
means taking shortcuts, too.
And with 340 left, I'm sure I'll bore a few.

25.

Three little ones, five mouths to feed
in this economy,
means working hard to make ends meet
for those, our family.

Life throws its curves, its obstacles,
each harder than the last.
But lessons learned along the way
bring knowledge from the past.

And being strong for each of us
is all that we can do.
And holding on to what we love
will surely get us through.

24.

It's hard to be three
with two little sisses,
because they pull hair
even though they give kisses.

Too little to help much
or go out to play,
too big to be held
at the start of each day.

From being just one
to now one of three
makes being the oldest
the hardest, you see.

But Mama and Mommy's
loving arms hold,
no matter how little,
how big or how old.

23.

Polly's getting her first tooth.
I swear to you, I speak the truth.

It's poking through, just out today.
No wonder she won't eat or play.

She's gnawing, drooling, biting too.
She has to get that toofer through.

Sleepless nights and cranky days
have been the price she has to pay.

She'll work that tooth with little tongue
and a pearly white she'll have 'fore long.

22.

Slobbery kisses on my cheek.
Older one plays hide and seek.

Pudgy hands grab both my lips.
Got each settled on my hips.

Sister plays her little games.
They're starting now to know their names.

Bubble-blowing they can do,
smiling, giggling, sitting, too.

I can't believe five months flew by,
I think I must've blinked an eye.

Three little girls are growing fast.
We've got to make these moments last.

21.

Anger is the driving force
to make a situation worse.
Step back to see the path it brings
before you say those angry things.

It doesn't matter who is right,
if all you do is fuss and fight.
The time it takes to make amends
is worth the effort in the end.

20.

Heavy-fringed curtain falls,
covering sand-encrusted orbs.

19.

Heartbeats, translated
into electronic beeps,
march quickly, then race.
Pausing, fatigued, abrupt halt,
until, surging through vessels, a
liquid Grand Marshal salutes,
commanding order from
Deadly Chaos.

18.

The baby peed on my hand.
I really can't understand
why she has to let it go
as soon as Mama tells her, "No..."

I've got the clean one just right here.
Can't you wait Miss Phoebe, dear?
I know the cold air hits just right
and makes it hard to hold on tight.

I thought those special little joys
could only come from little boys.
But Mama's learned to move real fast
'til Phoebe's covered up at last.

17.

It's the end of the day and all three are asleep.
We're all alone and neither's uttered a peep.

Too many distractions throughout the day
leave too much to be said to recap in some way.

We're tired, we're worn out. There isn't much else.
We have to recharge and take time for ourselves.

Sometimes I miss them, the good olden days.
Where nothing much mattered; we had time to play.

But our loving and planning have placed us right here.
At the end of the day, so far yet so near.

16.

Phoebe doesn't like the bink.
She chews her hands until they're pink.

Polly loves her little Nuk.
She cries until she gets to suck.

But they both love their sister Paige.
I think that three's their favorite age.

They stop their fussing, crying too,
when she first steps into their view.

On not much yet do they agree,
but loving her it's plain to see.

15.

My wife went on a run.
She says it's so much fun;
she says she wants to get in shape.
I think she runs just to escape!

14.

Baby screaming in the car.
How much longer? Is it far?
Doctor says she's motion-sick.
Dramamine won't do the trick.

She cries until her eyes are red.
She won't rest her little head.
Our nerves are frazzled you can see
from crying babies one, two, three.

For when one cries it triggers two
and what are moms supposed to do?
When baby girl can't settle down
for trips across this little town.

Our families please must understand
that we can't travel 'cross the land.
Until poor Polly handles miles,
we won't be driving for a while!

13.

I can't be honest and say
that I've written a poem every day,
but starting my day at night
means the timing just isn't right.

And waking when the day hasn't changed
leaves me plenty of time to arrange
those thoughts within my head and heart,
until realizing with a start,

That today isn't the day that I thought
and try as hard as I ought,
this nocturnal shift is creating a rift
so I'd better catch up, and swift!

12.

I want it. I need it. I will use it someday.
If it's broke, I don't care. I will fix it one day.

It was gifted. I bought it. I found it today.
I will keep it in a box way out of the way.

So the stockpile grows because I want it to stay.
I have all my stuff, I am so proud to say.

But it grows and it grows and it blocks all my chi.
And my karma grows stale for it wants to be free.

So I purge it and toss it and give it away.
And I learn to let go of the things in my way.

11.

A poem I forgot to write.
So here it is.
And, now, goodnight!

10.

Spirit, spirit in the night,
please go straight into the light.
When you hear that you are dead,
don't just linger near that bed.
Ghosts aren't meant to stick around
haunting souls here on the ground.
Float on up to meet your friends
for your journey's at its end.

9.

Electricity crackles, surges through
rubber and metal, those portals
for travelling electrons: lightning born
with one swift CRACK!

Created now, leaps from source to skin,
skin to earth, forever searching,
leaving darkness to become chaos
in its wake.

8.

Coughing, coughing, all the time.
Can't stop long to make this rhyme.

Sneezing, sneezing, what to do?
Gotta earn the money but I got the flu.

Sweating, sweating, then the chills.
How am I going to pay these bills?

Fretting, fretting, have to whine.
Whose to blame? Those damn swine!

7.

You can leave now, Mama,
and close the door.
I'm a big girl, Mama,
my feet touch the floor.
You can leave now, Mama,
and shut it tight.
I've got things to do
and I'm all right.
You can leave now, Mama,
but before you do,
Remember, Mama, I love you.

6.

Writing poetry is hard
with children playing in the yard.
Don't know if I'll have time
to write more than merely rhyme.
For rhyme is easier to do
than expressing through and through
and bringing feelings forth
to contemplate their worth.

5.

There once was a poet who said,
"I really must get to bed."
But no poem I've written,
so here I'll keep sittin'
before I can lay down my head.

4.

It's twins! It's twins!
They say we're having twins!
I can't believe two eggs released.
Three girls and now The End!

3.

Too sick to write.
Too tired to fight
this thing they call the Flu.

2.

Tiny fingers grasp, find air, then hair.
Little hands hold on tight
those transient things, then phantom things.
Fleeting moments; borrowed time.

1.

Kids are crying

Fingers flying

Trying to get this poem done.

Time is moving

Writing's losing

Challenge on: and kids have won.